


It's A Good Face

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [60]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Fluff, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Two men arise and contemplate their respective features





	It's A Good Face

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Face

Gregory Lestrade shut off his alarm and stretched before he rose out of bed and headed to the bath. He turned on the shower to give the water a moment to heat up as he studied his face in the mirror while he brushed his teeth.

His dark chestnut hair gave up its ghost ages ago. The now platinum spikes with dark silver roots stood on end from his hands that habitually ran through them. It matched the stubble along the strong jaw that he’ll let stay for another day before he’ll shave his rugged face.

The smooth baby face of his youth has toughened. It is a man’s face that seen some years, but still will have years to go before it’s the face of a true old man. He thinks of Robert his uncle, the one that everyone in the family says is his physical twin. Robert aged like a champ. Nearing eighty, Robert Lestrade was an old man, no bones about it, but he was surprisingly virile. Greg can only hope his Lestrade genes will be as gracious with him.

Deep brown eyes stared back at him. Eyes that when light hit them at just the right angle looked shades brighter. Eyes that have seen a lot. Some days it seemed like they have seen far too much, other days they looked forward to the new things yet to be seen. Granted, sometimes those new things needed the help of a pair of glasses to be seen, but _que sera sera_, right?

It was a good face, Greg decided. The face only _he_ gets the privilege to love. Greg smiled knowing his husband does.

He knew he was not the handsomest bloke out there, but he knew even now he could still turn a head with little effort.

Luckily, he only cared about turning one head and grinned as that one head, and the body attached, padded into the bathroom right on time, just as the steam was rising in the shower, as always.

“Not as young as I used to be.” Greg began as he headed for the shower.

* * *

“Not as old as am I yet to be.” Mycroft finished what has become their daily morning greeting. Greg walked away from the mirror, vacating the spot to Mycroft to brush his own teeth.

Mycroft examined his own face. He had shaved late last night; he did not need to this morning. He grinned internally at the slight irritation of stubble burn where Greg’s stubble had rubbed harsh against his fresh shaved cheek while in the throes. It had faded much overnight and would fade more before they left for the day.

Where Gregory’s thick hair was spiky silver, Mycroft’s receding hair remained a dark auburn with penchant to curl that decades of brushing, combing and product had done little to tame. His scalp was dark auburn, yet the rest of the hirsute body was a lighter ginger hue. It took years of being loved by Greg for him to accept his pale complexion with its _constellations of freckles_ as Greg dubbed them, an inheritance from his mother’s side of the family.

Mycroft’s strong profile suited the enigmatic man. Still he liked that his thin lips have smiled more in the past few years than it felt like it had in the decades previous. He loved that the crow’s feet around his eyes were now just as much from amusement where once it would have been annoyance. His eyes, a patriarchal gift, were currently a pale grey in the light of the bathroom can easily transform into a cool blue that helped give veracity of his nickname of Iceman or to a deeper shade of blue when in need.

A need that only Gregory gets to see; a need that only Gregory gets to fulfill.

It was a good face, he decided. The face only _Greg _gets the privilege to love and smiled knowing his husband does.

“I hope you left some hot water for me when I get in there, I’ll be coming soon.” Mycroft called out as he rinsed his toothbrush.

“Get in here and you’ll be coming soon, but not be because of the hot water.” Greg opened the shower door in offering a dirty grin on his face.

Mycroft's face turned down right lecherous as he accepted the offer.


End file.
